


Ex-Summoner

by PurpleGentian



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-21
Updated: 2015-07-21
Packaged: 2018-04-10 11:25:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4390013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurpleGentian/pseuds/PurpleGentian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I have a mediocre OC whom I RP'd as, and I have some shenanigans here or there which warrant me writing what would happen if I decided to actually implement Old Lore as it was before September 5, 2014.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ex-Summoner

“You resign?”

Vessaria Kolminye's question had a tone of surprise, as she looked at the person in front of her. 

“My environment is far too toxic for me to go on at this point,” Abomasnow Henderson sighed. He looked at a Bronze emblem he placed in his hands. He looked saddened, as though ceasing to become a Summoner through quitting was a tough decision. In reality, the decision was fairly easy, and straightforward.

“What brought this on?,” Vessaria asked curiously. She wasn't too concerned. Aboma had shown promise as a Summoner, even though he was Bronze. That said, Bronze Summoners were dime a dozen, and in her eyes easy to replace. 

“There's a lot, but my presence in the Institute of War is not particularly well-received. That much is a given.” Aboma's face had physical evidence, in the form of an eyepatch which covered part of his face. One of his eyes had to be surgically removed after a pitchfork went through it courtesy of a Platinum Summoner known as The Pike. The Pike lost her life, while Aboma merely lost an eye. The circumstances were so far-fetched it confused Kolminye herself when she had first heard the news.

“That hasn't stopped you before,” Vessaria was quick to point out. As easy to replace as Aboma was, she genuinely wondered how he'd fare outside of the Institute at all. It was effectively the only place where he might have been able to grow stronger using the Druidic and Psionic magic he knew. She had specifically given him a spellbook that was initially empty, so that he could start recording his spells to be on par with Wizards and Sorcerers. She knew full well he couldn't do much in the way of the Arcane, not without help from Divine or Mental domains. In addition to the empty spellbook, she had also given him an Influence Orb.

Aboma's skills as a Summoner had first been assessed during an Arcanum Majoris Test. He was tasked with summoning Riven the Exile, and elected to jungle as her. He passed the initiation exams, despite having only brought a number-2 pencil, an eraser, a graphing calculator, and some spare sheets of paper. At first glance, Vessaria thought she was being mocked during her proctoring of his test. However, he showed an intellectual aptitude the likes of which roused her curiosity. Said aptitude, on the other hand, was marred with enough drawbacks that she had psychologists interact with him before making any moves.

It was from talking to these psychologists where Vessaria learned Abomasnow Henderson used to be a Noxian. At age fourteen, he had been disowned by his parents after an argument about whether or not he failed a stealth mission to rescure Noxian refugees from Demacian persecution. He lost his status as a noble when evicted from the Henderson estate, and he wandered around Valoran for a time. What happened to Aboma in the four year interim was not disclosed much, although she could tell he had suffered hallucinations, and seemed to be out of touch with reality at times.

The Summoner alias known as “Pyloncrafter” was assumed when she noticed he had taken to making jewelry, specifically small pylons. Oftentimes, these pylons would be made into necklaces and either merchandised to the public, or given to specific individuals as gifts. Pyloncrafter was Abomasnow's main moniker, owing entirely to the pylon jewelry he made.

Aboma had taken out his heart medication, and exmained it. He had needed it after getting heart problems. The story behind it was also one that Vessaria knew, all too well. It ended in disaster.

“Routine verbal abuse is not something everyone can take so easily,” he commented. He opened his medication, took out some pills, and dry-swallowed them. He then looked at his High Summoner superior. “There is strength in letting go of things which no longer make you strong, isn't there?”

He was echoing her words. She said them, when there had been rumours of his dealing with another Platinum Summoner, named Amberw Kevlar. Amberw had been disappointed with Aboma's performance as Ahri in one match, despite him turning the tables against a Gold Summoner who opposed him as Orianna. The rumour was that a fireball was shoved down his throat during a Magister's Duel. There was a follow-up rumour where he became “A Song of Ice And Fire” and rematched Amberw Kevlar. Another corpse in his wake, despite her advice to not cause any more havoc.

Upon remembering what The Rumour Mill had said about Pyloncrafter, Vessaria shook her head, “There isn't strength in retreating every time there is adversity.” He had contemplated resignation many times before. 

“I'm constantly on tilt, and don't know how else to stop it.” He took out a letter, and then gave it to her, “Here's my two week's notice, while I clean out my office.” He proceeded to leave after the fact, apparent his final moments in the Institute of War. 

He headed down the stairs to the basement floors of the Institute, and found his office on the twelfth floor. He packed the Influence Orbs he used to enhance his telepathic communication with Champions. As he went through the Influence Orbs, he lamented the sheer fact he was only ever genuinely “good” at summoning Riven. He had countless other Orbs at his disposal, each representative of a single Champion whom he could bond with psychically. He placed them all in a box.

After finishing one box of Influence Orbs, Aboma proceeded to go into the twelfth floor's closet, and take out several wheels he would need for the furniture and other items. He had learned to manipulate them with his mind, which aided in lifting furniture otherwise far too heavy for him to normally carry through an elevator. His next stoppe was a moving truck he had plotted to use. He asked for it earlier that day, and the mover looked at him.

“Got everything set?,” the mover asked.

“Yup,” Aboma nodded, as he began filling the truck with everything from his office. While filling, he noted that Vessaria didn't seem to put up too much of a contest. Perhaps she eventually saw him as a hazard to the Institute, he surmised. He wasn't particularly respected in the Institute, despite his efforts. Sometimes, he felt his efforts to try and get along with other Summoners had been entirely in excess. This would just lead to him beating himself up over perceived slights against others, when the reality was different from his perception of everything.

The mover got in the truck, while Aboma got in a white motorcycle. The motorcycle was named Weiss. He wasn't sure why he had earned this motorcycle, but it matched his white hair, and matched a few other things here and there. He decided to ride it all the way home, rather than take the usual way back to an apartment complex in Piltover he had earned. A Silver Summoner had bet he could not win with Vi in the jungle ten times in a row. Aboma had won that wager, which meant he not only had an apartment in Piltover to keep, but he also won the motorcycle.

The motorcycle and the cool air of the autumn morning had kept Aboma relatively calm. The weather was overcast, although he still had his parasol in case of sunlight hitting him. Ordinarily, he was nocturnal, having picked up the habit from his time as a vagabond. It also helped that Aboma had done odd jobs here or there throughout, and was able to get them done more efficiently in the nighttime. Another Bronze Summoner also happened to specialize in summoning Leona, and also gave him a hassle with Sun magic. 

Eventually, he reached his Piltovian apartment. With the help of the mover, the minimally-decorated apartment now had his office supplies distributed throughout, which made the apartment slightly more lively. After the mover's assistance was done, Aboma decided to make one last stop to a primary home in Noxus. He had only used the Pyloncrafter moniker while in Noxus, owing to resentment against his parents. It's not like he could have picked an alias otherwise, but he already had a reputation from jewelcrafting, and it was quite useful. 

It was better to be useful than anything else. 

Travelling through the different city-states on motorcycle had taken multiple hours. Aboma was not one to get rest, though. His average amount of sleep time was roughly four hours a day. This was in part due to nightmares of Jarvan III, or occasionally Jarvan IV, killing the paranoid Noxian alongside an elite guard so as to prevent escape.

Vessaria claimed those nightmares meant Aboma would be important someday; he sincerely doubted that.

He made it home, greeting gold lawn gnomes. A total of thirty-seven had been arranged in a defensive military formation. However, nobody had bothered his house while he was away due to him locking up the place nicely and due to a few incidents which people learned meant to not mess with him.

The first incident was when he got the lawn gnomes for his birthday last year, on the 13th of April. He travelled on a cruise ship and won the gnomes in an auction with birthday money. The money would, of course, go to charity, but upon learning a Noxian had won the auction, it ended in disaster. For the most part, it was a chase sequence between him and a mob of angry non-Noxians. He jumped off the ship and swam to Bilgewater shore, only to be escorted back home with his lawn gnomes.

The second incident was when a twenty-five man raid showed up to his house. All of the raiders were fanatical Kayle Summoners. The fanatical ones were called “Diehards” by Aboma, who considered himself a Riven Diehard by similar logic. At any rate, Aboma had tried to main Morgana and made the mistake of drawing the ire of the twenty-five man raid's leader during a Summoner's Rift match. This mistake nearly cost him his life, and cost him his gnomes. He was lucky to have booby-trapped the gnomes with a Frost Tomb spell he borrowed from a couple of acquaintances who were fantastic Summoners specializing in Frostguard magic. He did not escape unscathed, however, and his upper body was covered in burn and cut scars. He had to teleport to a hospital at the very last minute, or he would have slowly died.

He headed inside, and looked around the house. One of the people he did favours for passed away, and somehow Aboma earned the house in the person's will. He checked a garden, and tended to it. Afterwards, he went upstairs and bathed himself. After a swap to casual clothes, he headed downstairs to the house's basement.

He saw a video game console with his favourite title, Riven 2006. Originally just an Arcade game, it had been gifted to Aboma after the machine for the game broke and silver dollars caused an allergic reaction in him after bludgeoning him in the face repeatedly. In exchange for silence and not causing the Insitute's Arcade staff any harm, he was allowed to play Riven 2006 in peace. They had designed the console and programmed it to play any of the Arcade's titles, after all.

Inserting the Riven 2006 cartridge in, he began playing. Thus, he would start the first day of becoming an ex-Summoner.

**Author's Note:**

> I sincerely have thought about writing more in general, and wouldn't mind doing so if it means I can help remake Abomasnow Henderson to still be lore-savvy, as otherwise my endgoal would be a League of Legends AU where the Institute of War still exists. I originally wrote this guy for Tumblr RP, but as of late I've felt unsure about sticking around in the RP community. As such, I thought showing what he'd be like before any modification took place would probably be a wise idea.


End file.
